


The Errand

by tikistitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 15:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tikistitch/pseuds/tikistitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just one version of how the order to rescue Dean might have come down from Above.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Errand

Title: The Errand  
Author: tikistitch  
Rating: PG-13   
Characters: Uriel, Castiel  
Warnings: Mild cursing.  
Word Count: 800  
Summary: Castiel is given an important task.  
Notes: My version of how the order was given.

 

“Even to touch their corrupt flesh is to tempt damnation.”

“Father wills it.”

Uriel frowned, dark-feathered wings unconsciously arching, as they tended to do when his ire was up. He silently willed himself to smooth his ruffled feathers. Wouldn’t pay to come off rebellious. Not here. Not now.

Uriel straightened his robes, freshly magicked and stiff, and stood, straight backed. _There is a time for action, and a time to keep your damned mouth shut,_ he thought. As he consciously set aside his disgust at the laid task before him, a thought came to him. A bright shining little bird.

“I know the one for this job,” Uriel said. And he did.

“See it done.” 

Uriel set out, seeking his brother. The simpleton. Our Father had said, do not intervene, but keep watch over them. And so he did. Too literal minded by half, the idiot. 

And there he was, perched up on high over Earth. Watching, head tilted off to the side, far off look, wings flapping lazily.

“Brother Castiel!” hailed Uriel.

There was a pause. Another tilt of the head, eyes focusing up instead of down. Castiel straightened a bit, tugging up his rumpled robes. Fool hadn’t bothered to change after the last skirmish, Uriel reflected. This one, if he’d cared even a whit, could have been as lovely as Lucifer. But instead he seemed to prefer to mooch about, robes bunched up and falling off his shoulders, wings askew. _He granted you beauty, not brains, you flapping idiot,_ Uriel thought. _Why not make the most of it?_

“Hail, my beloved Brother Uriel. What tidings?” asked Castiel mildly. “How fares the war?”

“I bring news. But not of the battle. There is an errand.”

“What sort of errand?” The eyes, so sweet and trusting.

“It concerns the humans, I am afraid,” confessed Uriel, wrinkling his nose. 

Castiel did not answer in kind. His wings stopped the slow rhythmic flapping and held steady, feathers the color of spun honey ruffling in the light breeze. Attentive. This one was created with glory to spare, thought Uriel.

“You are aware of the Winchester brothers?” asked Uriel.

To Uriel’s astonishment, Castiel’s expression turned curious: it was almost, Father help him, eager. “Oh. I know them. I have watched them. Is it Sam?”

“No. The other one.”

“Dean?” supplied Castiel. Only now did his expression turn to a proper frown. 

“Yes. Him,” Uriel told him, carefully hiding his astonishment. Why would this one know humans by name? Why the bother? But there was no questioning the whims of Castiel. He was out of what little fucking mind Father had granted him. “Dean Winchester,” repeated Uriel, forcing out the mortal name through clenched teeth.

“Even now, damned and degraded, lowliest of low, his thoughts run to his brother. His family,” supplied Castiel, although Uriel hadn’t asked him. As Uriel did not care. Castiel's eyes got that far-off look again. Listening “And…. What exactly is _pie_?”

Uriel scowled. “A human frivolity. Pay no mind to it.”

“Human he remains,” mused Castiel. He repositioned himself on his perch, stretching out his broad wings, giving them a good flap. “Despite it all. And, what was the errand about which you have spoken, my brother?”

Uriel realized he had nearly forgotten. Depend on the brainless idiot, Castiel, to throw him off his mission. “He shall be raised from hell. Returned to earth.”

“He is well guarded,” Castiel reported.

“Do you fear the legions of hell, brother?” taunted Uriel.

“I have no fear of them, for I am in His service.”

Uriel smiled, the mouse falling into his paws. “Father wishes it. And he wishes _you_ to do it,” he added, even though this was not entirely true. Details, details….

Castiel snapped to attention, all traces of whimsy now falling away. “Father? Our Father?”

“What other Father would there be?” grumbled Uriel, forgetting himself. “Yes, it is felt there is no one more suitable to the task than you, honored brother.” The eyes, beseeching now. “Take a company of brothers and sisters. Lay siege to Hell. And raise up the man.” And if you have even a lick of sense in that pretty head, lead from the back, idiot.

Castiel gave Uriel a slight bow. “His will be done,” he answered formally.

“His will be done, my brother,” said Uriel. _You poor dumb bastard_ , he thought, dark wings arching, flying away.


End file.
